


Other People's Celebrations

by flipflop_diva



Category: Hart of Dixie
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1321318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holidays were never a strong suit in the Hart family. And that never mattered to Zoe. At least not until she moved to Bluebell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other People's Celebrations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [APgeeksout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/gifts).



Holidays were never a strong suit in the Hart family. Sure, they paid lip service to all the big ones now and then, but there was never any family bonding or sit-down dinners or attempts to spend the day with each other by creating precious and long-lasting memories.

Sometimes, the holidays were barely even acknowledged at all.

When Zoe went to college, holidays became a bigger deal. Mostly because they seemed to be a bigger deal to her friends, who like to trade presents or cook meals and hang cheesy decorations on their dormitory doors. 

It was fine. And sometimes it was even fun. But if you asked Zoe, the best part of the holidays were the nights when they were all just crashed out on the floor drinking. 

That was a tradition she could get behind. 

When she went to med school, holidays were pretty much forgotten. Who had time to eat turkey or dye eggs or drag a tree indoors just to decorate it when you had a billion textbooks to study and lessons to learn?

During her internship and residency, it was even worse. Holidays were the last thing you wanted when all you really wanted was sleep.

And then she moved to Bluebell, and every holiday ever imagined took on a life of its own. 

More than a life of its own. Festivals and gatherings and town productions. Every holiday was an event, and every event was bigger than the last. And every time a new one popped up — and they seemed to pop up almost every other day — Zoe would roll her eyes and scoff and make some sarcastic comment, only to have Lavon explain to her in all seriousness how that certain event was essential to the history of Bluebell.

“This is why people don’t like you,” he said to her after she spent ten minutes making fun of the idea of a Debutante Ball. (“Tell me it’s not old-fashioned!” she had argued.)

“People still don’t like me?” she said, and sighed.

Lavon just shook his head.

But what Zoe never told anyone was that sometimes she envied the people of Bluebell. She envied their traditions and their pomp and circumstance and the way they all had their place in everything. It was nothing like she had ever seen before, but sometimes she thought it must feel nice.

“What are some of your holiday traditions?” Annabeth asked her one day, as they checked girls in for the annual Miss Cinnamon Cider Pageant.

“Oh,” Zoe shrugged. “We didn’t really have any.”

“None?” Annabeth asked. “Not even for Hanukkah?”

Zoe shook her head. “My dad worked a lot,” she said. “My mom’s not Jewish. She would buy me Christmas presents though.”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said.

“Don’t be,” Zoe smiled. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. But Zoe would never tell Annabeth that.

And she didn’t have to.

Three months later, when her conversation with Annabeth had long since been forgotten, there came a knock on the door.

Zoe opened it and froze, just staring, as Annabeth grinned at her, awkwardly balancing multiple platters of food and a Menorah.

“Ummmm, what are you doing?” Zoe asked.

“Happy Purim!” Annabeth exclaimed. And then she frowned. “Is that what you say?”

Zoe blinked, still trying to figure out what the heck was going on. 

“It’s fine,” she finally managed. “But what are you doing?”

“Oh, this?” Annabeth pushed past Zoe into the house, the platters all tilting precariously in her arms. Zoe grabbed on to a couple to keep them from falling. “I thought we could celebrate a holiday for you. But all I know is that a lot of food gets eaten. I hope that’s okay?”

She stopped moving, and looked at Zoe, worry flashing across her face.

Zoe didn’t know what to say. She just stared at Annabeth.

“I’m s-sorry,” Annabeth said when Zoe didn’t say anything.

Zoe finally shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me on any holiday.”

Annabeth visibly exhaled. “Oh, good,” she said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like it!”

Zoe shook her head. “I love it,” she said, but then she frowned. “But why the Menorah?”

Annabeth grinned. “I told you I don’t know much,” she said. “I improvised.”

  
  
[Icons made by me]


End file.
